


Just Like You

by AnnieGrimmons101



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Banter, Breastfeeding, Childbirth, Courtship, Egg Laying, Good Uther Pendragon (Merlin), Intersex Merlin (Merlin), M/M, Mama Merlin, Marriage, Miscarriage, Other, Poverty, Soft Arthur Pendragon (Merlin), Stillbirth, Uther gets to be a grandpa, Uther loves chirren, babies!!!, papa arthur
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 02:01:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,617
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25246555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnnieGrimmons101/pseuds/AnnieGrimmons101
Summary: Living with almost nothing in the dirt-poor village of Ealdor, Merlin starts laying magical eggs, but they can't survive for long out here. Hunith sends her boy to Camelot in hopes of a better life, for him and his children.A rewrite of the original (now deleted) version. A little less OOC, a lot better writing.
Relationships: Merlin/Arthur Pendragon (Merlin)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 160





	Just Like You

**Author's Note:**

> for Ady

When he was twelve years old, Merlin laid his first egg. His mother never told him that his genitals were any different than that of other children, but when she beheld his first barely-clinging-to-life egg, Hunith decided it was time to tell him that he was different. He didn’t understand at first -- it made no sense! -- but after a while, he ceased to care. He went on living as a boy even though he also had the parts of a girl.

The egg, a tiny thing that Merlin would later learn was not a healthy size, was barely more than a fist-sized, vaguely butter-coloured translucent sphere. They attempted to keep his egg warm, but Hunith soon realized that not only did they not have enough heat in their house, Merlin hadn’t been fed enough beforehand for it to have any chance in the world. Merlin knew it was dead the next time he checked on it; the yellowish tint was wholly gone, leaving a sickening white smog in its place, and the tiny being he could sometimes see when he squinted impossibly hard was no longer visible.

They cried for it together, and then Merlin went out to the forest by himself to bury it.

When he was almost thirteen, Merlin had a crazy growth spurt where he was suddenly taller than his mother -- Hunith had trouble believing it. Then, a week after his thirteenth Yule, Merlin got a second chance.

That egg was a much sunnier yellow, so it got their hopes up. Once again, it started off fist-sized, but within a month it had grown to be the size of a small melon or a crystal ball. Merlin could still carry it in one hand, but he dared not for fear of dropping it. And, this time, the tiny person within it actually held some shape. He slept curled around it once it was two months old, as the sphere was steadily growing and he knew it was safe to hold it tightly against him. Unfortunately, despite their best efforts, that egg started to fade, and fade it did until Hunith woke up to her son sobbing over a cold, lifeless globe. It was buried right next to the first under a pile of stones as a memorial.

Fourteen was a growing year, and Merlin’s body seemed to gain some sense, as it didn’t even try to give him an egg that year. His body allowed him to keep all his nutrients to himself, and he actually put on some weight.

Merlin’s fifteenth Yule came and went -- no egg. Summer came. Will had gone out into the fields daily since age thirteen, and that year Merlin joined his best friend. He seemed to enjoy the work despite the heat. Hunith hoped he had forgotten about those two sorrowful moments that she could only refer to as miscarriages, but one day he came home early with stomach pains and a terrified look on his face. She helped him through the labour; this one was born bigger and was harder to get out. They both secretly hoped that this bright golden egg would be the one to make it through.

It lasted until winter came. They couldn’t keep it warm enough.

Hunith started to write her uncle Gaius for aid, because if these eggs weren’t going to stop coming, then her precious Merlin was never going to stop having his heart broken. Gaius said he would look, but he had never heard of the phenomenon and had no idea where to start. She thanked him anyway.

When Merlin turned sixteen, he had another outrageous growth spurt, meaning he now towered over his mother and had to look down to talk to her. Thankfully, his body seemed to know when an egg was impossible because he didn’t have one that year.

The year after was harsh. Barely any crops grew, rain was sparse, animals and small children died… it was tragic. Merlin did have an egg that year, though; it was stillborn at barely the width of a coin. He told his mother at least he hadn’t had a chance to love it first, but she still followed him to the burial site and watched him sob over his four lost babies.

At eighteen, Hunith knew Merlin was never going to manage this if he could never get enough food or warmth to keep them alive. She wrote to Gaius and told him the situation had not improved in the slightest, that Merlin had lost four eggs so far, and he would continue to lose more if his lifestyle didn’t improve drastically. Hunith begged Gaius to take in her son, despite the danger of having something so obviously magic in Camelot, begged him to look after Merlin, allow him to live where he could get enough food and enough warmth to stop having his poor heart shattered.

Gaius agreed that a change of living was the best option, much to Hunith’s relief, and insisted she should send Merlin to Camelot at once.

Merlin laid his first Camelot-bred egg two weeks after being given the position as Arthur’s manservant. Arthur was none the wiser, of course, and he would probably never even know Merlin was a hermaphrodite. Together Merlin and his mentor wrapped the glittering, melon-sized golden egg in a thick quilt and hid it in the moneybox near the fire to keep it warm.

The next morning, Merlin carefully checked on his child while Gaius puttered around the room. He shrieked at the sight of it and started crying -- it was fading! If not even Camelot living could save his eggs, then what could? Where it had been a perfect gold the night before, it was now a dull silver colour. Gaius calmed Merlin down as best he could and lifted out the egg to inspect it medically. By all counts, it was entirely healthy, but seemed to have adopted an entirely new colour, a phenomenon almost stranger than the egg itself. Merlin cried harder when he was told it was going to live. He held it close to his chest and rocked it, praising the gods in his native tongue that he really did get to keep it.

Gaius allowed Merlin his moment of relief while he inspected the moneybox for what could have happened, and then it dawned on him -- they had put it in a box full of silver coins. Only a few stray copper coins were in it, and most of them were at the bottom.

Gaius swore on his mother’s name that he would look after Merlin’s egg while the boy was at work. He spent a good half hour sorting the coppers into a completely different box, and this time nestled the baby directly into the mound of silver, draping the quilt overtop.

When Merlin got home and raced to the “crib”, the egg was a gleaming silver colour, healthy and bright, and Merlin chuckled through silent tears.

It lived.

Six months into his job, Merlin’s egg was much too big for its box, but after all the nights Merlin had cuddled it in his own bed, Gaius reassured him the silver colour was probably permanent. They knew they couldn’t hide the egg for much longer -- hell, there had already been some close calls with the King entering unannounced -- so Merlin came up with a plan. If Gaius could figure out when it was going to hatch, Merlin could pack it up just before then and ride the day-long journey back to Ealdor and let his mother raise it. His mentor asked if he was sure bringing it there was the best idea, to which Merlin replied that there could be no better place to have his baby raised. They could see it through the translucent silver fog, kicking at its prison, and they knew it was getting close to time. Gaius figured it would hatch in a month, since it seemed to grow at a similar rate to human babies. Merlin brought it to his mother. He had to return to being Arthur’s servant, though, and likely could not get leave again for a long time, so he poured himself into letters with Hunith.

It hatched. Hunith said it was one of the messiest and most disgusting things she had ever experienced, but at the end of it all, a tiny copy of Merlin was resting in her arms. She cleaned everything up as best she could, and confided in a few trustworthy neighbours to help her raise a second, baby Merlin. Her letter detailed everything about the birth -- Gaius insisted for research purposes -- and then the very last line was: _The baby is just like you, both a boy and a girl. What do you suppose should be the name of a miniature you?_ Merlin wrote back frantically, and together they decided on a name: Raven.

“Two days off” was Merlin’s Yule present from Arthur -- without the Prince knowing that Merlin also celebrated his birthday on that day. He raced home to tell Gaius he was going to brave the weather and see his little Raven for the first time. According to his mother, Raven “acted like a girl”, so Merlin’s daughter was gifted dresses from the other townsfolk, and Hunith had already decided to let the baby’s hair grow long. Gaius and Merlin packed money, food, and gifts for both Raven and his mother, and Merlin was on a horse and gone before lunchtime.

Raven was small, but all the townsfolk had taken to her, so her cheeks were chubby with plenty of milk. Merlin cried when he met her, and his old neighbours comforted him, thinking he had just missed the daughter he barely met, or something along those lines. They were of course none the wiser about how Raven came into being, and Merlin intended to keep it that way. He couldn’t put Raven down for more than a few minutes at a time, but all too soon he had to leave. Hunith swore before the gods that Merlin’s baby would be well looked after.

“She’s beautiful, Gaius,” beamed Merlin the second he got home. His mentor smiled at him proudly, and they shared a warm hug. “She’s chubby and strong and all the townspeople love her,” Merlin mumbled into Gaius’s shoulder. “Yes, Merlin, I’m sure she is,” replied Gaius, rubbing Merlin’s back. “Now come on. Let’s put some food in you.”

Just before spring came, Merlin wakened Gaius in the middle of the night with severe stomach pains, and by dawn, Merlin was clutching a second healthy egg. He didn’t want to be parted from it, but he slowly handed it over to Gaius and headed up to handle Arthur. Gaius performed a full examination, and then placed the egg in a chest full of quilts and long-forgotten royal clothes -- it was probably best not to make Merlin panic over the colour changing again.

No such luck. Gaius was having a quick word with the King in the hallway while Merlin checked on his new egg. A nervous “... _Gaius_ …?” interrupted their conversation, forcing him to bid King Uther good evening and return to his office. Merlin was cupping his precious baby in his hands worriedly, the gold having shifted into a glittering night-sky indigo. They searched the box and quickly realized one of Morgana’s shredded old dresses was made of a similar colour of silk. With some logic, Gaius concluded that the eggs would adopt the colour of anything exceptionally valuable, like money or finer cloths.

Merlin spent all night transforming Morgana’s old dress into a blanket with a needle and thread, then wrapped his egg in it lovingly before setting it in a basket next to the fire.

And then something freaky happened: Merlin started laying eggs in droves.

By the end of the month, Merlin was the proud mother of seven eggs. There were only so many places they could put them, and they couldn’t very well leave them lying around, so Merlin bought six more baskets, lined them each with quilts, and kept them all in his own bedroom. The indigo egg was left by the fire at night, hidden by a few boxes and tucked safely under a chair so nothing could bump into it. Gaius deemed the spare room where Merlin slept warm enough at least for the eggs to survive, and so they both slept in peace.

One of the quilts Merlin used turned out to have scraps of hot pink silk in it. Another basket Merlin had tossed some coppers into by mistake. Yet another blanket incorporated bits of lace, leaving the egg inside it with an eerie, whitish, translucent spider-web-like pattern. The other three seemed to be staying gold, much to Merlin’s delight, although none of them was the exact same shade. One was buttery yellow, one was darker -- closer to the colour of the King’s crown -- and the last was almost explicitly the colour of Merlin’s eyes when performing magic.

Hunith insisted in her letters that not only was she ecstatic at the thought of all Merlin’s healthy children, but that she was readily looking forward to Raven having siblings. Eight, however, would be a bit of a challenge, she admitted, and mentioned she might have to find a “nanny” of sorts, one who would simply live in her home in exchange for helping with all the babies. It would have to be someone they both trusted, though, as there was no telling when one of the little ones might show just as much proficiency in magic as Merlin did at a young age. Merlin and his mother exchanged stories about Prince Arthur and little Raven over the next few days, with occasional input from Gaius about developments in the phenomena that was uniquely Merlin’s.

There were some close calls over the next several months, but Merlin managed to dodge all the possible catastrophes in which someone might have found his eggs. Soon enough, they were just too big to keep around, and so Merlin got a day off, rented a cart, and took all seven to his mother’s house. A woman named Vioma had moved from a nearby village to help with Raven “and all the little ones on the way”. She gaped at the big orbs and immediately understood the need for secrecy, helping to unload them while Hunith kept the one-year-old Raven, whose eyes had since shifted to gleaming silver, propped on her hip.

Merlin left in tears after Raven hugged him and called him “muma”.

A week later, Merlin got a letter saying five of the seven had hatched, leaving just the buttery one and the coppery one to spring free. And, two days after that, those two joined the family as well.

He _yearned_ to go see his babies, but he knew Arthur would never give him the time without a damn good excuse, so he settled for descriptions of them. They weren’t identical, though Hunith claimed they all looked just like him, with winter-pale skin, wisps of dark hair, long black lashes, and huge blue eyes. Coming up with names for them was a challenge, as Merlin wanted to continue with the bird theme. Within a week, he had put together a list of names for the seven new babies: Wren, Canary, Piper, Robin, Sparrow, Meadowlark, and Dove. Merlin finished that letter by saying Hunith and her housemate should decide which baby got what name depending on what personalities they each developed.

Autumn was almost upon them when Merlin’s stomach pains reappeared. It was at the worst possible time -- they were in the middle of a conversation between Arthur and the King. Luckily, Gaius was a part of that group as well, and excused them both by insisting Merlin might be falling ill. Everything should have gone off without a hitch; with just a few hours of labour, there would be one more baby in the family.

Except Arthur followed them home.

“Leave now,” insisted Gaius when Merlin started to pant and moan.

“What’s wrong with him?”

“Get out.” Gaius started to push Arthur out of the room, but he wasn’t strong enough to keep Merlin and Arthur apart, and furthermore, Merlin started to groan out his mentor’s name for aid. This would be another long delivery. He gave the Prince one last warning glare before racing to Merlin’s side and dressing him in a delivery gown.

“Hurts-hurts-hurts--” Merlin started pulling on his hair to keep his hands out of Gaius’s way.

“I know, I know, just breathe. You know how to do this,” the older man soothed, massaging Merlin’s slight bump to try and alleviate a small portion of the pain. Merlin managed to get his breathing under control, but tears were streaming down his face.

Arthur was still present, the absolute prat, and he seemed to have caught on to what was happening to his servant. He pulled up a chair and crowded Merlin’s side, petting his hair and saying calming words and occasionally looking up to see what the physician was doing. “He’s not plump,” Arthur whispered nervously, motioning to the boy who didn’t seem to be listening anyway.

“I told you to leave,” replied Gaius at average volume. “You’ve no right to be here for this.”

The Prince looked offended and crushed for a few seconds until Merlin snatched Arthur’s hand. They stared into each other’s eyes for a long moment, and then Merlin whispered, “You can stay.”

Late that night, after screaming pain and far too many tears, Merlin clung to his ninth healthy egg. Arthur stared in shock at the “newborn baby” as Merlin gasped in relief. Sweat stained his brow, and just about everything else stained his grey delivery gown. He stroked his egg fondly, dozens of bird-related names flying through his head as he took in the basic gold colouring all his eggs had been born with.

Well, not _all_ of them, Merlin remembered, and then he started sobbing again. Arthur held him while he cried, an extremely unexpected gesture considering the nature of the child he just birthed, and then the Prince dried his tears and helped Gaius clean up. Gaius said he had errands to run before dawn crept too near, and promptly left the two of them alone.

Arthur shifted close and rested his hand on Merlin’s arm right next to the egg. “Merlin, what… what exactly…”

“What is it?” Merlin finished for him tiredly.

“...yeah.”

Merlin gulped and prepared to lose his best friend. And possibly his life. “I, um… Arthur… I lay eggs,” he blurted. The tension in the air was palpable. Arthur just sat and stared at Merlin’s newest egg.

“That’s… there’s… a baby in there?” His eyes widened in wonder, and he reached out to touch. Merlin allowed him to do so, and Arthur trailed a finger down the smooth orb. “It must be… so small…?”

“It’ll grow,” whispered Merlin timidly.

Arthur looked into Merlin’s eyes, an unfamiliar light shining from within his own. “How many of these have you…?”

With a nervous swallow or twelve, Merlin quietly replied, “Eight. This… this is nine.”

Arthur stayed the night with Merlin and thankfully didn’t ask what happened to the other eight eggs. He curled around Merlin and his butterscotch egg on the tiny patient bed, and they pressed tight together to keep from falling off. Merlin hadn’t felt so warm and safe since he was still forming in his mother’s womb.

For some reason, Arthur named himself the “father” of Merlin’s new egg, always coming around to ensure its safety and secrecy. Meanwhile, he went easier on Merlin as a manservant, finally knowing he was still healing from giving birth. He insisted that he get to hold the egg at least every other day, claiming that it wouldn’t do to be an “absent father” at such a “crucial stage”. It stayed a supple gold despite the amount of time Arthur -- and his fancy clothes -- spent with it, and a month into its growth it was still a honey yellow.

Then Merlin got in trouble and spent an entire week in the dungeons, forcing Gaius and Arthur to fight for custody. Gaius won, being a physician and far more experienced, meaning he wrapped it up and kept it on his person for over half the day, every day. He was giving a quick checkup to the Prince in his bedchamber a few days into Merlin’s imprisonment, and the King called Gaius out into the hallway for a quick word. The physician left the wrapped egg behind, just in case, and Arthur waited patiently for him to return and reclaim it.

Naturally, Gaius didn’t have a chance to do so, meaning Arthur took Merlin’s precious child out of its coarse wrappings and tucked his red cloak around it instead. He already had a box for it inside his wardrobe -- because why not be prepared? -- and set it safely inside the warm, dark closet.

When Arthur checked on it that evening, he barely kept down a shriek. Merlin hadn’t told him this would happen! Their baby was stained a perfect Pendragon red with little smudges of gold. Arthur considered what the child might look like when it was hatched, if it was supposed to do this, if they might end up with a red and gold infant. At least it would be Pendragon colours, he reasoned weakly, and carefully locked it back up to go break the news to Merlin.

“So… um…”

Merlin’s big blue eyes somehow got bigger. “What?” he begged, already worried. He was such a girl sometimes.

“Is the egg supposed to, like… change color?”

“Like…” Merlin swallowed. “...what color?”

Arthur mimicked the nervous reaction. “Like… Pendragon red?” he squeaked out, already wincing. To his relief, Merlin sighed and relaxed into the filthy hay. “It’s okay, then?”

“Typical, that would be the color it changes when you have it,” joked Merlin, entirely at ease. “Only three of the nine have stayed gold.”

And then, for the moment of truth: “Merlin… what exactly… happened to the other eight?”

“They live with my mother?”

Why it lilted up nervously, Arthur wasn’t sure, but he was less sure why Merlin would give up children he had fought so hard to make. “And what about mine, are you giving away that one too?” he almost growled. Merlin shrank back at seeing him angry.

“Where, exactly, are you going to say it came from? Babies don’t just happen, Arthur.”

They stood there in silence for a long while. Arthur glanced around himself and then apologized for the fact that he couldn’t risk staying any longer.

Over the next few days, Arthur and Gaius took turns with the egg, making sure to keep it in Arthur’s cloak most of the time to maintain its gorgeous red colour. Merlin really wanted to see it, but the King would see no real reason to release Merlin early after the stunt he pulled.

Finally, the King supposed that Merlin might have “learned his lesson” -- basically he just begged to be set free, and Uther decided he had learned a bit of humility -- so he gave Merlin a chance to rectify what he had done. All that was really required of him was making damn well certain that he kept his eyes down and addressed his King correctly, except Uther added a cruel twist. Rather than Merlin being expected to ghost away when the King appeared, Merlin would have to kneel. It was stupid, yes, but since he didn’t really fancy his other two options -- staying in the dungeon longer or getting lashings -- Merlin readily agreed to the change in behaviour.

He told Gaius as soon as he got home what was expected of him, and Gaius rolled his eyes. “I’ll change his mind.”

“Wait, no, I can do it,” insisted Merlin quickly. Uther would most likely only repeat the other two options. Or just randomly make Merlin report to the courtyard and have him publicly flogged.

Gaius raised his brow sceptically. “You know the King won’t be pleased if you mess up. You might end up back in the dungeons, or worse.”

“I can handle it, really.”

“Well then, you had best get a handle on your mouth. And go see Arthur; he’s been missing you.”

Merlin spent the night in Arthur’s rooms, curled protectively around their blood-red egg and buried in expensive blankets. They talked late into the night. He told Arthur about Raven calling him “muma”, and about his mother’s new helpmate, Vioma. Arthur listened eagerly to what Merlin heard from his mother’s letters, that the babies had eventually been named -- more or less -- for their original egg colours. The one that hatched from the hot pink egg had been declared Piper; the indigo one had been named Wren; the lacy one, Dove; the butter-yellow egg, Canary; the bright golden one, Meadowlark; the copper, Robin; and the darker gold, Sparrow.

Arthur insisted they visit soon. Preferably before Raven turned two, he added. Merlin replied with the King’s new rules for his behaviour and said he doubted they could manage to get away anytime soon. They both grumbled for a while, eventually falling asleep wrapped around their little Pendragon.

“Arth… Arthur!” Merlin groaned, elbowing the Prince awake. It wasn’t yet dawn, but Arthur shot up in bed upon seeing Merlin clutching his stomach. “I’m -- I need--”

“Can you wait for me to get Gaius?” panicked Arthur, massaging the small lump on Merlin’s stomach he had failed to notice the night before. He cursed himself for not even considering the possibility. His servant shook his head frantically, and Arthur thought fast and hard. Merlin was already clutching the red egg still within his cloak, so Arthur scooped up the pair of them into his more-than-capable arms and began the trek down to the physician’s office.

They had to stop every so often when the movement from Arthur walking sent jolts through Merlin’s body and caused him extra pain, but Arthur went as fast as he could bloody manage. He accidentally forgot his father was an insomniac, but passed right by him with little more than an anxious glance. Gaius was not awake yet, but Merlin wouldn’t let Arthur get away for long enough to --

_Oh dear gods above, why?_ The King had followed. At least he was waking Gaius for them, Arthur reasoned nervously, pressing on the bulge on Merlin’s stomach to help dislodge the new egg. He retracted his hand when tears escaped Merlin’s eyes. A very groggy Gaius jumped awake when he saw the predicament his ward was once again in, and insisted everyone give him and Merlin some privacy.

Both royals refused.

Gaius bumped the Prince to soothing duty so he could help deliver the egg, and the King hovered further away, slowly becoming more aware of what was happening.

Arthur had the red egg cradled in his elbow, not really paying attention to it, so Merlin grabbed Arthur’s face and pointed it at one of the empty baskets. Arthur nestled the egg carefully in the basket near the fire and then raced back to pet Merlin’s hair.

After a few minutes of heart-wrenching screams, Merlin calmed down a little bit, so Arthur glanced back at the egg. His father had set the basket on the table and was squinting at their child.

“This… is this what I think it is?”

“Sire?” queried Gaius, feigning innocence to protect Merlin.

“I can… I can see a… I don’t want to say a baby? Inside this?”

Merlin started crying. Horrible, racking sobs plagued his small frame, and Arthur held Merlin close to his chest to comfort him. Arthur stared directly at his father, too, with a look he had used on the same man several times before -- _you’re on thin fucking ice_.

Uther wisely took a step back from the basket. He still didn’t leave Gaius’s office, watching from afar as Gaius delivered Merlin’s tenth egg.

The delivery took four hours, but once it was born, Merlin passed out with it in his arms. Gaius and Arthur cleaned Merlin up, and then Gaius asked Arthur to carry Merlin up into his bedroom. The shining new egg stayed tucked into its mother’s chest when Arthur tucked said mother into his bed, and then the Prince came back downstairs for the inevitable conversation with his father. King Uther was once again trying to see the tiny baby within the red-and-gold orb, and Arthur joined in the search rather than speak.

Uther glanced up at Gaius with an inquisitive look, “How does it get out?”

“It’s an egg, sire; it hatches,” replied Gaius tiredly, still cleaning up the mess from Merlin’s tenth successful birth.

A few moments passed in silence.

“Why does he lay eggs?”

Arthur couldn’t help but compare his father to a curious child while Gaius informed the King they had no earthly idea. “I’ve scanned every related volume I have access to, sire -- nothing. He’s entirely unique.” Another few soundless moments went by. This time, what broke the awkward quiet was Merlin making a groaning noise. Arthur scampered upstairs to check on him, leaving the King and the physician alone.

The Prince gave Merlin a day off, to recover both from childbirth and from his stay in the dungeons. Arthur spent several hours with him, cradling the bigger red egg while Merlin cuddled the shining gold one. Gaius brought them tea while they sat and admired the babies. All was peaceful in their little world until a low, kingly voice sounded outside the room. Merlin froze and held his two unborn children firmly as Arthur crept out of his chair to close the door. Both of them could hear how strained Gaius’s voice was.

“It’s okay, Merlin,” soothed Arthur, sliding into his small bed and coaxing the little gold egg out of his tense arms. He cradled it gently, kissed its smooth sphere, and then leaned in to kiss Merlin’s temple. “I won’t let anything happen to you… any of you.”

They stayed like that for a while, listening to the muffled conversation between the King and the physician.

Finally, Arthur had a thought that might take Merlin’s mind off his fear. “What should we name them, do you suppose?”

“Well… all my other ones have been… named after birds.”

Arthur had to chuckle at him, “Just like you.”

“I do lay eggs, Arthur.”

“So…” Arthur nuzzled into Merlin’s side and held up the precious new egg to admire it. “You gonna name this one?”

Merlin shifted in bed to be more comfortable; Arthur propped his feet up on his chair to give them more room. “Not until it changes color, I don’t think,” replied Merlin softly. “Never know what color it might end up.”

“What about that one?” Arthur nodded at the Pendragon red egg tucked in Merlin’s arms.

They thought long and hard together, but before they could say any ideas, a flustered Gaius flung open the door. “What’s going on?” demanded the Prince immediately, jumping up to protect Merlin and his eggs.

Gaius straightened himself. “The King has decided it’s cruel to keep a mother from her children,” he said plainly, his eyebrow starting to raise along with the corners of his lips. “And it’s also cruel to make two women care for eight infants alone in a village with little food and warmth.”

“He’s… bringing Merlin’s family here?” asked Arthur incredulously.

“It would seem so,” replied Gaius, his lips twisting into a smile. “And, as you continue to reproduce without partners, he’s decided you need extra accommodations.”

“...what?” Arthur rested a gentle but possessive hand on Merlin’s arm while he handed back his smallest egg. “My father. Is bringing Merlin’s whole family. To Camelot. And giving them their own room?”

“Don’t get excited,” Gaius reassured quickly, “that section of the castle is unfinished. He and his mother will most likely have to fix most of it themselves. But yes, they are coming here. With an escort to make sure all eight babies arrive unharmed.”

Merlin and Arthur spent weeks working on the unfinished suite of rooms, painting walls in soft shades of green, replacing rotting timber floors, reattaching doors, and rigging cribs together for the babies. Finally, when they were almost done with the finishing touches, Uther sent Arthur and a few Knights to escort Hunith, Vioma, Raven, Wren, Piper, Robin, Dove, Canary, Sparrow, and Meadowlark to Camelot.

The journey was slow, and Merlin became too anxious to sleep, pacing the suite they had built and painting white trees on the green walls. He added branch after branch after branch, painted on leaves and flowers and buds like his life depended on it. Gaius finally dumped a sleeping draft down his throat, but Merlin still could get no sleep without curling around his two precious unborn babies.

He woke up on the day Arthur was predetermined to arrive -- he may yet be late, Merlin remembered sadly -- and tucked both eggs into a quilt-lined crib to go paint just one more branch or flower or adjust that door just a little more. King Uther was standing in the main room, which would eventually be a living room. Merlin’s mother was moving here permanently, after all, and would most likely bring her furniture along.

“I must say, it isn’t what I expected,” His Majesty said thoughtfully.

Merlin remembered he was supposed to kneel, and did so painstakingly. His stomach had been toying with him -- another egg was on its way.

“And to be honest, I didn’t expect you to remember to do that. As you were,” he said lowly, and Merlin slowly rose. “Are you quite alright?”

“Stomach pains, sire,” replied Merlin, keeping his eyes down while he rubbed his lower belly.

“Pregnant?”

“Probably.”

Uther paced while he muttered, “Damn,” and then he stopped utterly. “Not… giving birth today, are you?”

“I don’t know,” said Merlin softly. “I don’t think so.”

The King swore again, and this time Merlin dared to look up at him. He seemed… agitated.

“Sire, I know it’s not my place, but…” He paused when Uther turned to look at him, piercing hazel eyes almost mesmerizing. “Are you alright?”

“I just can’t believe I’m doing this,” Uther muttered, turning on his heel to pace again. “Make certain Arthur is aware that his regular duties are expected to be done.”

Why that was Merlin’s job, he couldn’t fathom, but he nodded respectfully. His Majesty turned and left the room with a swish of his cloak.

Merlin cried himself dry when he met all his squirming little babies, and Arthur held Raven while Merlin attempted to carry all seven infants at once. Raven called Merlin “muma” again, which brought him over to her, and she cuddled into his chest while Arthur wrapped his arms around both of them. Vioma and Hunith each hugged Merlin as well, and then started to settle the babies into their cribs. The largest crib was for Raven, and Merlin and Arthur carried her to it, each giving her a kiss and a nuzzle as they put her down for a nap.

Raven called Arthur “papa”, and the Prince beamed down at her proudly, pecking Merlin on the cheek. Merlin blushed bright red.

The Knights, along with Arthur, helped carry in the few possessions the women had brought from Ealdor. A pile of blankets, a favourite chair, some dishware and other family heirlooms, and the books Hunith learned to read with were all they had needed from their old house.

Once most of the babies were asleep, Merlin fell onto Arthur’s lap in Hunith’s rocking chair, and together they thought of a name for that red egg, which was nestled lovingly with the smaller egg in a basket near the grand fireplace.

“All I can think of is Robin, but you already have that one,” lamented Arthur, massaging the bump on Merlin’s belly. Something that rarely happened to Merlin began to occur as he listened to the soft sleeping noises from the room next door: he began to lactate again. It occasionally happened when Merlin thought about his children, but never enough to notify Gaius about. This time, though, it stained the front of his shirt.

“How about… Harrier?” he offered, squirming in Arthur’s grasp. The Prince’s hands wandered up his chest while he considered the name, and then became wet due to the milk.

“You didn’t tell me about this at all,” he complained, letting Merlin get up.

As if on cue, Vioma came out with little Canary -- Merlin could tell them apart already -- who was squirming unhappily.

“Is she hungry?” Why he automatically chose the feminine pronoun, Merlin wasn’t sure. Vioma just nodded, and once Merlin stripped off his shirt, she handed him his baby. Canary naturally attacked Merlin’s chest, finding a nipple and biting down hard with her little gums. Merlin squeaked in surprise, but settled back into Arthur’s lap to let Canary have her first taste of her muma’s milk.

“Aww,” cooed Arthur, watching Canary suckle while nuzzling Merlin’s neck from behind. “She looks just like you,” he whispered, kissing the joint of Merlin’s neck, evoking a squirm. Canary grunted unhappily as her meal moved around. “They all look a lot like you, in fact,” he said curiously. “Don’t you think they’d look a little… different from each other? You know, like most siblings do?”

“They’re not “most siblings”, Arthur,” reminded Merlin, standing up to pace around the room with his baby. It would be Yule in just over a week, he realized suddenly. He would only be twenty, and he already had eight kids. Funny, when he was little, he thought it would only ever be himself and his mother against the world. A lot had changed since then.

Peaceful silence with the ambience of multiple sleeping children lulled Arthur into a slight doze, and Merlin spent a while showing Canary the trees he painted around the room. A knock sounded at the door, and Merlin raced over to get it. Gaius was the first to enter, citing the need to give all the babies thorough examinations, but the King hovered outside the door with his eyes down.

“...Your Majesty?” asked Merlin tentatively.

“You’re breastfeeding,” Uther replied plainly, looking up but keeping his eyes closed.

Merlin flushed in embarrassment at the idea of the King averting his eyes, but spoke his mind. “I’m not a maiden, sire,” he reminded tersely, holding the door open wide. “I think she’s about done, anyway.” Vioma was right behind him when he turned to put Canary back down for another nap.

“Here, give her to me…” Vioma took Canary out of Merlin’s arms. She hiccuped and grabbed at her muma, indignant at someone else holding her. Merlin watched them go back into the nursery with the other babies, and felt the swish of air on his bare back as King Uther entered and closed the door behind him.

“Put a shirt on,” ordered His Majesty awkwardly, still not looking. Thankfully, Gaius had brought along Merlin’s grey delivery gown, which he quickly pulled over his head. Uther relaxed, and at long last started to take in the room. “Your mother didn’t bring much,” he noted casually, picking up a small porcelain vase that belonged to Merlin’s great-something-grandmother some extremely long number of years ago.

“She brought what she couldn’t live without,” Merlin shrugged, his arms feeling clumsy and empty without a baby in them.

Uther set down the vase gently.

One of the babies began to cry in the other room, and the noise broke Merlin’s heart.

“Is that their room?” queried Uther in a tone so mousy Merlin thought he must have misheard. When it was clear he didn’t, Merlin led the King into the nursery and let him meet all the babies. Hunith was bouncing one of them -- Wren, Merlin thought -- but another one was starting to squirm angrily even in sleep, so he hurried around to the side of the crib and smoothed the tiny, wrinkled brow. Uther followed much more slowly, and leaned over the crib to see Merlin’s baby. “He’s so small,” breathed the King, reaching out to touch Sparrow. He retracted his hand before he did so.

“You can hold him if you want,” offered Merlin, lifting the twitching little one out of his crib and bringing him around to the King’s side.

“I… haven’t held a baby since Arthur,” Uther admitted quietly, accepting Sparrow and bouncing him a little in his arms. Sparrow made a cute noise and fisted a hand on the King’s shirt, putting his other hand in his mouth and sucking on it. “What’s his name?”

“That’s Sparrow,” informed Hunith from across the room. Uther glanced at her, but fixated his attention on the infant in his arms. Merlin’s mother attempted to place Wren back in his crib, but he made a fuss again, and Merlin hurried over. “I think he’s hungry, too,” Hunith said, handing him to Merlin. Wren started to cry when he met his muma’s chest but was not met with milk, so Merlin slipped the neckline of his dress down and let Wren have the nipple Canary didn’t choose earlier.

“Are you expecting to be able to feed all of them by yourself?” queried the King from across the room. He looked somehow in his element in the pale green nursery, a baby in his arms and cribs surrounding him. “That’ll take a lot out of you,” he said knowingly, glancing around the room at all the sleeping babies. Merlin followed his gaze. It would be difficult, he knew, but he would manage. And now knowing that the King not only didn’t want him dead, but supported him? He felt invincible.

Not when contractions hit him, though. Wren sensed his muma’s pain and pulled away unhappily; Hunith took him and bounced him as Uther set down Sparrow. Vioma rubbed Merlin’s back, asked him if it might be time, if he needed anything. Merlin rejected all offers and slipped away to return to Arthur’s lap. The Prince was dozing spread-eagle on the rocking chair, leaving plenty of room for Merlin to slump between his legs and just rest. He could feel the round shell of the egg inside him and knew it was close to the average birth size. It wouldn’t be long now.

As the Prince woke up, he wrapped his arms around Merlin and started to massage the lump so Merlin could relax. The King exited the nursery a few moments later. He stared at the two of them curled up together for a long moment, then paced the length of the room nervously. Arthur patted Merlin’s arm to let him up, and then settled his pregnant servant back in the rocking chair with a blanket tucked around his legs. Uther accepted Arthur’s quiet request to have a word in private, and they left the room together.

Late that night, Merlin’s contractions became birth pains. Gaius delivered his egg while Hunith and Vioma acted as midwives, fetching water and clean towels. They did their best to calm him down, but they could only do so much. An aching longing filled Merlin for the brief minutes he was in less pain; he wished Arthur were there to help him through the birth as he had for the last two. The labour took until late the next morning. Shortly after the egg was birthed, Arthur burst into the room to comfort Merlin as best he could. Merlin smiled up at him gratefully, but soon enough passed out on the small delivery bed. He was exhausted.

“Father’s given me permission to court you,” repeated Arthur, rolling his eyes. “Unless I’ve been sorely misinterpreting everything you’ve said to me for the past two years.”

Merlin blinked, stuttered a false start to a sentence, and tried again to speak.

“Don’t hurt yourself,” Arthur said smugly, patting Merlin on the shoulder. “I know it’s rare for a servant to receive the attentions of someone so far above him, but I promise it’s only out of charity.”

“...oh,” Merlin forced out. There was a lot of feelings inside him that he didn’t know what to do with.

Arthur pursed his lips and poked Merlin in the belly. “You don’t even laugh at my jokes anymore. Come on, Merlin. I’m marrying you. Cheer up.”

“Right.”

“You know, most peasants would be flattered by my affections.”

Merlin rolled his eyes, turning away from the Prince. “That’s coz they don’t know you like I do.”

“Oh yeah?” Arthur challenged.

“Yeah,” Merlin replied, sticking out his chin. “No one would want to marry you if they knew you snored.”

“I do not _snore!”_

Merlin laughed out loud. “You snore like a pig! I can’t marry a pig!”

“I’ll show you _pig_ \--”

“Happy anniversary, Merlin.”

Merlin beamed. “You got me flowers.”

“Of course. Even picked them myself.”

“They’re pretty.”

Arthur preened. “Almost as pretty as you,” he flirted, kneeling over Merlin in their bed and kissing him deeply.

“Enough,” Merlin huffed, “I haven’t had breakfast yet-- and shouldn’t you be training?”

“I thought you might like to spend the day with your beloved Prince. It is, after all, our anniversary. We could... go for a picnic.”

Merlin’s eyebrows went up. “A picnic? Like that went so well the last time?”

“I can’t control when bandits come, Merlin, don’t be such a girl.” Arthur bounded back off the bed and threw Merlin’s clothes at him. “Come on, we’re picnicking. I’ll tell the cook not to give you any breakfast if you won’t come.”

Merlin rolled out of bed. “I’m coming... _Prat_.”

“Heard that!”

(the end) 


End file.
